Dancing
by Bloody Pheonix
Summary: Max knows Anne is hiding something behind those brooding looks.
1. Chapter 1

Anne Bonny was dangerous, perhaps the most dangerous person on Nassau. Most assumed it was Eleanor with the power she held over the island's trade or Vane because he'd come back from death and disgrace but Max knew better. While every pirate on the island was preoccupied by the thought of pussy or plunder, Anne always had something else on her mind. Most ignored her, she was a woman whose cunt wasn't for sale so she had no value to them. Max could see that she was always planning something, evaluating each man as he went about his business.

Anne had orchestrated the murder of her entire crew. Most credited Jack for that but she'd learned that nothing motivated Jack besides money. He had a great mind but it was always Anne that galvanized him when the reward didn't involve plunder. It was almost funny that Jack was constantly harried into his most impressive endeavors by his broody girlfriend.

When you were the subject of Anne Bonny's brooding, you didn't live long. Max wasn't stupid, she caught the lingering looks, felt the tension growing between her and Jack. That was one of the biggest signs that Anne was plotting something or preoccupied by it, the arguing. Anne wasn't a talker so when she wasted her breath on Jack's pettier remarks there was an underlying irritant.

The last few weeks the tension between them had built quickly with Jack dealing solely with the 'crew killer' yoke and Anne's frustration. They would argue loudly for hours until Jack stormed out or Anne threw him out of their room. Jack disappear for hours with a bottle and return drunk and bloody, even bitterer. Anne was too distracted by her brooding to be of any help to him beyond threatening to kill every pirate on the island. She knew it was only a matter of time before Anne would end the brooding and take action. Any action on Anne's part would be bad for her, so she resolved to take action of her own. She positioned herself on the balcony while Jack and Anne were enthralled in another argument, waiting for the words that signaled the end of discourse between them. "Get the fuck out then!" Anne snarled.

"Alright! Fuck!" Jack acquiesced, heading for the door. He stepped out onto the balcony, spotting Max and pulling the door closed behind him. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about," he began as he approached her. "But I would recommend avoiding her for a while," he gave a humorless chuckle and moved past her.

She listened to his fading footsteps for a few seconds, trying desperately to calm her fluttering heart. She took a breath and moved to the door, opened it and paused half way through the threshold. Anne was seated at the desk, her back facing the door, slouched over the surface. "Get the fuck out!" She ordered angrily. Max felt her breath hitch. Anne Bonny was a dangerous unpredictable woman, especially when she was angry, even more so when you were the cause of her ire.

She was dancing on the blade of a knife. She cast her eyes downward and took the final step into the room, pushing the door closed. She willed the fear out of her voice as she crossed the room. Anne could be impulsive, was quick with a blade but she wasn't unreasonable. If she could dispel her murderous urge by the time she was within stabbing range, she would live, there would be peace between the two of them. "If we are all going to make something of this place, perhaps it is best that you and I find a way past all of this. Past your anger towards me." She paused at the edge of the bed.

Anne glanced back at her. "Not gunna warn you again." She said gruffly.

"Your anger, it is understandable. You killed your own crew to free me, you suffered indignity in my defense. Perhaps that is enough to warrant your feelings." She paused again, took a breath and steadied herself. "But perhaps there is something else underlying it." She took a tentative step forward, continuing toward Anne. "Something hidden in a place even you can't see. Perhaps we would do well to bring it into the light." She placed a hand on Anne's shoulder.

Anne's chair crashed to the floor "The fuck do you think you're doing!" Max found that her hair was in a tight grip, pulling her head back to expose her throat. She felt the dagger's edge pressing into the vulnerable flesh there. Her vision focused and she saw the grimace on Anne's face, but in her eyes confusion swam. Their faces just inches apart, Max fought her panic, fought the urge to pull back. Now she was truly dancing on a knife's blade. She didn't speak but pushed herself incrementally closer, a direction Anne was not prepared to resist. The pressure of the metal at her throat eased, allowing her to move closer. Anne's fury had faded to complete bemusement and then as Max inched closer her eyes flooded with desire. She let their lips meet for an instant, pulled back just a bit, and then let Max bring them together again. The hand in her hair loosened, the pirate didn't respond to the kiss for a moment but as Max pulled back Anne followed her and deepened the kiss. The dagger at her throat clattered to the ground.

Max took the opportunity to pull Anne closer, one hand settling on the curve of her bottom. The other woman stiffened for a brief instant before melting back into her embrace. The hand in her hair tightened again but the pressure was pushing them together rather than restraining her. Anne broke the kiss a few seconds later, her eyes still shining with desire but a frown was pulling on her lips. Max knew the look well enough, she'd seen it on the faces of many lovers. She wanted to touch back but she didn't know how. Anne was the one dancing on the blade now and it was clearly a position she was unused to.

She extended her free hand toward the one hanging limply at Anne's side, encircling her wrist between a thumb and forefinger and guiding the hand to rest on her shoulder. Anne lead them into another kiss, this one bruisingly hard, her tongue darting out and dominating Max's. After a few passionate moments Anne pulled back and pressed a brief chaste kiss on the hollow of her throat before sinking her teeth into the dark skin of Max's neck. Max whimpered, her fingers digging into Anne's bottom. The pirate pulled back with an apologetic look. "It's what I do for Jack." She murmured nervously.

"I'm not Jack." Max answered breathily. "Let me fuck you, then we will learn what I like, okay?"

Anne looked unsure for a brief moment before nodding. Max pressed her lips to Anne's once again, relishing in the feeling of kissing another woman. She was indisputably dirtier than Eleanor, her breath was redolent of rum and rotting teeth, and her lips seemed perpetually chapped but Anne was at least a woman. The fact that she'd developed a bit of affection for the rough and tumble pirate didn't hurt.

She knew Anne wasn't one to appreciate preamble so Max stepped back and undid the fastenings on the back of her dress, letting it fall to reveal her naked body. Anne let her eyes wander up and down Max's exposed form for a few moments before stepping forward and pulling Max into another kiss. Max was beginning to form the impression that Anne had not spent much time kissing anybody in her life. She wasn't a bad kisser, at least not in the way a drunk man is a bad kisser, she had finesse at least. She was good at varying the pressure against certain points of Max's lips, her tongue skillful but she was very forceful, not demure like Eleanor or shy like other girls she had fucked. Her lips pressed hard against Max's, her teeth nipping whenever possible and usually hard enough to draw tiny droplets of blood.

Despite the aggression in her kisses, Anne was capable of gentleness. Whenever Max an audible whimper would escape Max as Anne's teeth caught at her lips, the pirate would pull the affected lip into her mouth and suckle gently on it for an instant. They kissed until Max was light headed before breaking apart and gasping for breath. Max leaned her head on Anne's shoulder, exposing her throat again. This time Anne ran her cheek along the flesh there, pausing only once to place a kiss on the spot she'd bitten before. They held that positon for a few moments before they'd regained their breath.

Anne settled her hands on Max's ample hips. The pirate's gaze steadied on her breasts and desire clouded her eyes even more. The pure want in those eyes made Max's loins tighten. She scolded herself before pushing her libido to the side and focusing on Anne. She raised her eyes to meet Anne's, bringing a hand to her shoulder to pull her closer and lay a gentle hand on her cheek again to ensure she couldn't move away. The pirate nearly flinched away from the gentle contact. "How do you like to fuck, ma Cherie?" She intoned purposely hooding her eyes. Anne blushed and looked away for a few seconds before pulling half of her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I like just 'bout anythin'." Anne finally admitted. "S'long as it doesn't involve my ass." Max kissed her again, chastely this time before leading Anne to the bed by the hand. Anne stopped at the edge of the bed and turned her back to it to face Max, dragging her closer to kiss her once again. Max shoved her back so she stumbled and fell back onto the bed. Anne fixed herself into a wide legged sitting position, leaning most of her weight onto her palms. She looked up at the over woman expectantly.

Max was stuck looking down at Anne. In the lamp light she was really quite striking. Her long hair was thrown behind her, catching the light in a flattering way giving it the appearance of amber, her eyes were the most vibrant blue she'd ever seen. They were clearer than a cloudless day, more vibrant than the water of a shallow reef. Eleanor's eyes were green-blue, dark and beautiful but they could not compare to Anne's. "What'cha waiting for then?" Anne demanded after half a minute had passed. Max hid her embarrassment by slipping back into her alluring posture, she hadn't been caught staring in years. She sauntered forward, watching Anne's eyes follow the movements of her breasts. She straddled the pirate's thighs and leaned forward to kiss her again. After a few gentle kisses she move her attention to Anne's neck, placing fluttery kisses just below her ear. She earned a pleased groan in return and soon felt Anne's hand coming up to her breasts.

"You needn't be shy ma Cherie." She murmured between the kisses she was pressing to the underside of Anne's jaw. The encouragement gave Anne a bit of confidence, leading her to actually find and tease Max's nipples into small tumescent peaks. Max worked her way down the pirate's throat, occasionally pulling back for Anne to reciprocate with a few breathy kisses of her own against her pulse point.

She was just coming to the tight muscle that ran between Anne's neck and shoulder when she felt the other woman begin to squirm under her. "M'hm going to soak my trousers like this." Anne complained, placing her hands behind her and leaning back on her palms. Max looked into her eyes and found pools choked with desire gazing back. Anne was struggling to form sentences and they'd hardly even begun yet.

Wordlessly Max skillfully undid the lacings of Anne's trousers with a few sharp tugs. Anne lifted her hips just enough to shimmy the garment down to mid-thigh. The pirate spread her thighs as much as the restraint would permit, allowing the potent heady smell of her arousal to waft upward to Max. Anne smelled unlike any woman she'd ever encountered. Where most were sweet with perfume or sour with sweat, Anne was salty with the aromas of leather, fire, iron and the sea rolling off of her. A glance told her that the fiery nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs were already soaked.

The pirate glanced from her own sex to Max's before flicking her eyes up to meet her gaze questioningly. "We are not all as enthusiastic as you, ma Cherie." Max chuckled. "You may feel if you do not believe me." Anne fisted the sheets in her hand and shook her head. Max brought her hand to the hem of Anne's shirt, preparing to lift it but she found a hand restraining her own.

"I keep it on." Anne explained, one of her prominent fangs digging into her bottom lip.

"Of course." Max conceded, dropping her hand to Anne's thigh. "You are okay with us moving forward?" She asked. Anne rolled her hips in response. Max captured Anne's hands and brought the left to her bottom and the right to her shoulder. "If I-"She began.

"I can dump you off my lap if I don't like it." Anne said firmly.

"You might try using words first." Max replied playfully before capturing Anne's lips with her own. She trailed a hand down Anne's abdomen, feeling the hard muscle there. The pirate tilted her back exposing her throat for Max to assault with her lips and teeth.

Max laid her open palm against the skin of Anne's thigh barely an inch from her sex. She could feel the heat rolling off of her cunt. Anne jerked, rolling her hips forward in an attempt to get contact where she desperately needed it. Her grip on Max's ass and shoulder tightened, her lip slipping between her teeth again. Max moved her hand to cup Anne's sex, letting the wet head heat effuse into her palm, smiling at the pirate's barely swallowed gasp. 

Max pressed the heel of her palm hard against the apex of her sex, drawing forth a groan and another roll of Anne's hips as she attempted to keep the pressure on the jewel of her oyster. She leaned forward, catching Anne behind her ear with a few more kisses while she lined her index finger up with the entrance of her cunt. Max curled her hand forward slowly pushing into Anne. The pirate pushed her hips forward, her mouth falling open, and her grasp with her fingers slackening. Another gush of arousal pulsed around Max's fingers and onto her hand. Silky walls clung tightly to her, Max rocked herself forward, using her body weight to drill into the spot she knew would make Anne melt. She was rewarded by the pirate's inner walls clamping around her immediately and another surge of wetness soaking her palm.

Anne was breathing heavily, struggling to remain upright, her hips rolling, jerking and pushing forward uselessly to try to meet thrusts that Max alone was in control of. Despite the fact that she was holding onto her composure by the tips of her fingers Anne's eyes were still open, hooded but open. Max slid closer gaining more leverage and foiling any attempt on Anne's part to control the pace. A small noise broke in the back of Anne's throat, then another until a small strangled moan escaped her.

Max closed her mouth on the tip of Anne's ear, nipping lightly to accentuate her thrusts against the pirate's front wall. Anne apparently gave up whatever fight she was putting up and crashed back onto the bed, her hands falling once again to her sides and clutching at the bed clothes. Max followed her down, slipping partially onto her side to preserve her thrusting motion. The move cost her leverage but judging by the contractions she was coaxing from Anne's cunt and the flood of arousal that had soaked her hand to her wrist, it was unneeded. She found herself focusing once again on those large expressive eyes watching them glaze over and clear in cycles as the hot sex slickened velvety flesh around her clamped down and released with each movement of her hand.

She was truly surprised by that. Most woman needed contact on their clitoris to experience orgasm but Anne seemed to already be hovering at the edge of her pleasure. Max made a note to explore Anne's other oddities later on, for she was sure that whatever Anne harbored for her was not going to be sated in the morning. She sealed their lips together for a final time, mostly to contain the sounds Anne was bound to make as she was already struggling to contain low groans and small whimpers anything louder was bound to draw Jack's attention. A quick adjustment of her fingers and the pattern she was tapping out with in Anne was all it took to shove the pirate over the edge. She let out a few whimpers into Max's mouth, her cunt squeezing almost painfully for a few seconds at a time before relaxing, quivering, and squeezing again. Max decided to be ruthless, letting the contractions begin to die down before stoking them again with a few harsh thrusts. Eleanor had called the experience 'swimming with mermaids' because it was fun at first but after half a dozen it became agony, abdominal muscles cramped, breath came short and the throat became sore from crying out. Max had usually stopped after forcing Eleanor over the edge three or four times because she became irritable from the pain for a few days afterwards but Max had once made a girl lose consciousness. She was determined to11 repeat that feat with Anne.

Anne held out for a score before her muscles began to strain and her moans fell to the level of whimpers. Her teeth caught savagely at Max's lips in protest but she persisted even through her cramping wrist and burning forearm. By the second score Max had pulled away from her mouth because Anne was struggling to get enough air, her cunt had lost some of its vigor, spasming and clamping down nearly randomly with her arousal barely trickling out in the occasional spurts. Max pulled back, stretching her burning muscles as she leaned in and sprinkled kisses to Anne's soaked brow. "Rest now, ma Cherie, there is the morrow for talk." She soothed as Anne worked her mouth around sounds her throat could not produce.

Eyelids slid over lapis orbs and Anne was asleep in seconds. Max thought about making more concerted effort in concealing her presence there but decided it was unnecessary. She threw a blanket over Anne and gathered her dress and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

The whore was the most dangerous person on Nassau, Anne was sure of it. She'd been on the island for years, beyond people's notice when they weren't between her thighs. She'd learned things in that time. She knew how men thought and how to manipulate them, island politics, and the inner workings of the trade system to say the least. Anne had no doubt that there was even more harmful information protected in that head of hers. Her time as the Guthrie bitch's lover and the resulting fallout had hardened her from a simple resourceful whore to a true cutthroat.

She had rescued that cut-throat from the clutches of her own crew. She had gone to Guthrie to save her, ruined both Jack's and her own career as pirates to pull it off. Then they'd put the business of running the brothel into her hands. She'd done all that while she hated the woman and now she'd let her see- no let her exploit- a new weakness.

She'd fucking slept with her. What was worse was that it wasn't just her life she was fucking up-maybe endangering- it was Jack's too. If this were anything else, she'd tell Jack. They'd discuss options before deciding on a course of action that would solve the problem with minimal repercussions. She couldn't tell him about this. Not while he was dealing with the aftermath of her last brilliant decision. The two of them were supposed to be partners, their relationship depended on total honesty between them, but she couldn't tell him this. She couldn't admit to a failure this big. Nothing had come between them in thirteen years and she could have ruined everything by climbing into bed with Max.

Anna raised the bottle of brandy to her lips and took a swig to fill the pit in her stomach with fire. Guilt was not a feeling she had much experience with, guilty pirates were not good pirates. Besides that there was the matter of her growing weakness toward the whore, just thinking about her sent her cunt throbbing. Max was doing everything in her power to secure her position on the island and at every avenue Anne had helped her do it.

She had to tell Jack. She couldn't let him be blindsided by this-by her. She'd almost found the courage twice. Each time, the tilt of his head and the corner of his mouth that turned up into a tiny smile when talking to her, those small reminders of his love and trust for her had slammed the words back into her throat. She'd grabbed a bottle and hidden in one of the cheaper rooms that didn't get used much hours ago to mull over her thoughts.

Max slipped through the gap in the curtains over the door. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she suddenly found her throat dry. She took a swig of brandy as the whore crossed the room. Anne knew she couldn't allow her to speak, couldn't let any of those poisonous swaying words make their way to her ears. So she said the first thing that came to her mind as Max perched on the edge of the bed.

"He took me in-"She said, her gaze stuck on the bottle. "When I didn't haves shit, made a place for me, taught me things. Without him I wouldn't have fucking made it." She moved her gaze to Max for a brief moment before flicking it back to the bottle. "When someone gives you a life, one truly your own, you owe some of it back." She paused and looked at the whore again, and to her surprise saw a bit of understanding fall into place on her dark features. "What happened last night-Jesus!" She took another swig and averted her eyes once more.

"I understand." She felt her skin crawl at the gentleness of Max's tone. "Something so different from what you know, it can be frightening." She extended a hand to rest on Anne's. Her skin was so soft, her touch so light but so assured, even that simple gesture sent her pulse racing. The brandy had clouded her mind and with a few words Max had clouded her judgement. "I will respect your wishes, we can make last night the last time." Anne looked at her face, her body language, could still hear the words in her head and knew that she meant what she'd said. Max would not push, which left only her own resolve in question. She nodded, squeezing Max's hand a final time.

Max lingered for a few moments before padding out of the room and leaving Anne with her thoughts again. She finished the bottle and set it on the table, tapping her fingers on her knee and watching the light glint off of her rings. Even if things were over between her and Max she still had to tell Jack. Fucking someone else was bad enough, lying about it would only make things worse.

Beyond that-now that she'd drunk from a new bottle and found she liked the taste she didn't know if she could actually give it up. She loved Jack, liked fucking him for certain but Max was something else. Anne thought for a moment about if Jack told her he'd fucked another man. Not just a man but someone dangerous like Charles Vane or that curly haired Silver bastard and wanted to keep doing it. She'd gut him, she was sure of it. How could she expect him to have any other reaction to her confession? She was fucked and it was all her own making. She stood from the bed and slid out of the room to get more booze.

XXXXX

Jack was almost asleep by the time Anne slipped into bed. He'd curled up on his side and barely turned to offer her a greeting. She'd considered fucking him but she could see he wouldn't be in the mood and she was sure she wouldn't enjoy it tonight. She wanted-no craved- something else, someone else tonight. She resolved to get some sleep and talk to Jack in the morning, figure things out from there. She turned on her side and closed her eyes.

The image of Max sitting on her legs, breasts on display, hand at work between her thighs flashed into her mind. She opened her eyes and pushed away the thought. It returned with a vengeance, Max poised on her side looking disheveled but still in control. Anne felt her loins clench at the thought. She tried replacing the thought with a memory of the last time Jack had fucked her.

It had been after the Ranger had taken a good prize and they'd returned to port with gold in their hats. He'd barely waited for the rest of the crew to leave the ship before throwing her over the desk in the cabin. Most of the time she liked being in control, liked being on top but on occasion Jack surprised her with his ferocity and she liked that too. The image drove Max away and she snapped her eyes open to picture Jack taking her over the desk. She could feel the bite of the edge of the wood, the burn as he thrust in and finally the pleasure of a good hard fucking. She let out a low groan at the thought. Without her permission the image of Max watching from the doorway wormed into her mind. Max naked and wet with her fingers trailing over her folds. Anne pinched herself and forced herself to look up at the canopy of the bed.

Fuck, she thought, lying flat on her back. The intensity of her day dream was surprising, though it had only increased the ache between her legs. She pondered waking Jack up but dismissed the idea. Thought about finding an empty room to slide her trousers off and put her hand to use but felt more like taking Charles Vane's thick cock up her ass than to fall to that level. Instead she got out of bed in just her shirt and old wool trousers and snuck out of her room.

Max's room was a scant twenty feet away so she didn't have long to question the decision she'd made. She'd tell Jack tomorrow she promised herself as she raised a fist to knock. That did little to kill the guilt gnawing at her belly, so she tipped her head down in consideration while Max's footsteps approached the door. She could walk away right now, go back to her room and drink through the night. It wasn't as if she had an activity planned tomorrow.

She heard Max's fingers grasp the door and tilted her head back up. She was dancing on a knife's edge between guilt and lust. A second later she opened her eyes. Max didn't look surprised to see her there but also hadn't given the impression that she'd expected her. Her hair was tossed out of the perfectly coiffed curls, and her eyes had a tired look to them. Max was still beautiful but she was no longer trying to be alluring. Maybe she'd expected Anne's resolve to hold out longer.

Rather than allowing her thoughts to stall her into inaction Anna took the small half step into Max's room. She pushed the door closed, or less ajar than before. She didn't stop to confirm. Already deep in Max's personal space she leaned in for a kiss, her hands gripping the whore's hips. She'd fallen deeply into lust. The kiss was sloppy, followed by a sloppier one as Anne steered Max toward the door leading to her actual bedroom.

As they passed through the threshold Max took a step back. "Get comfortable, Ma Cherie. I'll join you in a moment." Anne nodded and took a step back before turning on her heel toward the bed. She slid under the blanket and watched as Max fumbled with a match for a brief instant. The wick caught flame, casting a dull amber glow over the room.

Max turned from the lamp to face her, warm olive skin turned to gold in its glow. Anne reclined on the bed, observing the subtle sway of Max's hips as she padded across the room. Though her hair was still disheveled, in fact just a bit more so than when Anne had entered the room, Max had slipped back into her whore role. She had that glint in her eye, the confident smile, she'd changed her posture to bring her breasts into view. It was so purposeful, so exact it was more dangerous than the best knife fighter.

It was making her pulse pound and she could feel slickness spreading through her folds. This sort of slow build up, the purposeful languidity of Max's short strides, the smoldering look in her eyes and teasing nature of the way her tongue slid around in her mouth was unlike any other experience she'd had.

She didn't much like to think about her life before Jack but with Jack things were quick. After a long voyage with coin in their pockets they might rent a room and spend a few hours or a day fucking but it was always a fast fuck until one of them came then the recharge period. It was a habit developed from fucking in secret on a pirate ship. Her first time with Max had been slow and frustrating but had ended in a long series of explosions. Max was used to taking her time, used to drawing out the simplest of transactions. Anne wondered if it was a product of her livelihood or a personal preference. She was distracted from her thoughts by Max sliding into the bed.

Anna grabbed the whore's shoulder, dragging her closer for a kiss. She palmed her breast, revealing a nipple she would tease later if given the opportunity. Max surged against her mouth, using her current position to roll nigh on top of Anne. Max slipped her hand into Anne's trousers and her kisses moved to Anne's jawline. Max's fingers brushed the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, drawing forth a gasp. She looked up, at the lamp, as Max lined herself up at her entrance.

"What I have found-"The sound of Jack's voice startled her, and Max as well by the whore's sudden jump away from her. Her reflex's brought her up into a sitting position to see Jack standing by the table, drink in hand. He was talking, she could hear his voice but she was too wrapped up in the feeling of her gut clenching and her guilt returning from the dark place she'd put it to find meaning in his words.

He made a few gestures before turning and grabbing a chair. "Our predicament for example." He paused and sat down. "You-"He indicated max. "Have a wealth of leads but no means of exploiting for anything other than a fee and risking retaliation from-" He darkened his tone and glanced in the direction of the tavern. "Ms. Guthrie in the process. I, on the other hand," He continued as he grabbed the carafe on the table and poured himself a drink. "Have an unparalleled aptitude for managing a crew but am being denied any and every opportunity to exploit the skill."

Max was beginning to stir next to her, coming to sit straight and giving Jack her full attention. Anne clutched at her hand beneath the blanket. She couldn't decide if Jack was angry over her dalliance. He had the ability to put his feelings to the side and deal with the most current problem for weeks at a time, but his anger or frustration or feelings of betrayal would show through in time. He was still talking to Max in his yammering 'I've solved it' tone so he was still going on about a plan he'd put together.

The mention of her name and a glance in her direction caught her attention. "Anne and I will then take those chosen leads, we'll procure a ship, we'll recruit men. And we will create from nothing a new crew from which we three will each hold a share." He quaffed his shot and flipped the glass upside down onto the table. He drummed on the table with his hands before standing. "You asked for better captains, I give you Captain Jack Rackham." He turned to leave but swiveled back around.

"And one more thing." He began with a heartbreaking gentleness. "Darling, I can understand why you wouldn't want me to know about this but please know that all I have ever wanted for you is to be happy." They shared a look of mutual bemusement. "Come to bed when you're through." He left, closing the door behind him.

Anne felt herself sinking back into the bed and toward Max. That's not what I expected when he made himself known to us." Max remarked.

"Would you rather he stabbed us both?"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Him stab you?" She smiled and leaned in to plant a kiss on Anne's nose. It was ridiculous but sweet. "Now I do believe we were about to get reacquainted. Tell me have you ever used your mouth on a woman before?" Anne shook her head. "We'll just have to remedy that." Max purred, stroking her hair. "Unless you wish to return to Jack?"

Anne shook her head again. "Fuck that." She pronounced before bringing their lips together.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles Vane was evincing himself as the most dangerous man on Nassau, or short of that, the most powerful. There was talk in the streets of his apparent hold over Eleanor Guthrie, despite the incident involving Max a few weeks prior. He had a savage new crew he'd won the Captaincy of my crawling out of a grave to put an unfortunate man right into it. That feat alone was enough to get him deferential treatment on the beach, but his power in the Nassau's political sewer came from his occupation of the fort.

Jack hoped he would rot in the damn thing for what Vane's blacklist had done to his life. The occasional unprovoked attack, the spitting and general mistreatment of his person that had become so commonplace since the circumstances surrounding the deaths of his crew mates had come to light had been troubling, but nothing worse than he'd been accustomed to on the Ranger. The damning part was the fact that no pirate would sail with two crew killers despite Anne's skill with a blade (or maybe in part because of it) and his own aptitude for strategic piracy.

He'd left the brothel at mid-morning, already in a sour mood from Max's victory in capturing Anne's attention. He'd begun trying to poach disenfranchised veterans from larger well known crews. His strategy was simple, dazzle them with the possibilities, hint at a few of the leads he'd gathered on his own, emphasize the small size of the crew, explain that it was so they could all have a larger share of the profit and as they were agreeing slip in the tidbit about him captaining the crew. He always lost them after that. The promise of gold was not enough to overcome losing the trust of the pirating fraternity in the Caribbean. Even among the slimiest of men, brazen sadists sailing with unsuccessful crews, men with heinous things tattooed on them, murderous freed slaves looking to reenact the horrors visited upon them, the association of his name with the moniker crew killer turned them away.

It was reaching mid-day when Jack finally spotted Anne as he walked away from a group of small time pirates. He fixed her with a discontented look and walked right past her. She fell into step behind him, as she'd done thousands of times before. He was headed back to the brothel to get a drink and maybe sort something between him and Anne. Max was dangerous, in a way that was almost beyond comprehension. With Anne's emotional growth stunted as it was she would never stand up to manipulation.

They traveled most of the way in silence but Anne broke it after it was clear he was lost in his own head. "Who were they?"

"Men wise enough to know that on this island three things are known to be true and number two is that Jack Rackham is a crew killer." He replied unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, glancing back at her.

"It'll turn."

"I admire your optimism."

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"You were preoccupied." Jack snapped.

"If you're angry about the whore and me just fucking say so!" Anne snapped back. He rounded on her expecting anger, expecting the flare of fury across her face. He didn't expect confusion and the beginnings of a frown, the hint of shame stealing the luster from her eye.

"If you have an itch that needs scratching, go with God. My trouble isn't that she can play with the thing between your legs better than I, but the one between your ears." Anne pressed her lips together, he gaze sliding to the wood beneath their feet. "Do you honestly not see it? That your judgment with her is clouded, at best. She knows it and intends to use it to drive a wedge between us. Because it is painfully obvious to me!" He raised his voice on the last sentence, but he hadn't meant to. "And there's nothing I can do to counter it, when I'm on the wrong side of that door." His tone was just shy of plaintive.

Anne looked up at him, her expression guarded. "Course I can see it." She intoned.

"Then why don't you stop it?" Anne knew how to deal with danger, how to make threats disappear, but she was playing with a viper now?

She looked away again. "I can't." He couldn't speak, only stare unbelieving at her. Anne was defeated, not by a brute or a silver tonged miscreant but by her own lust. She was playing a game she knew the risks of but was seeking no reward. He turned around and headed to the brothel again.

The entire journey he was still unable to form words or plans to fix this- whatever Max had done. Anne followed at his heels without a word. He was just beginning to wrap his mind around his new horror when Charles Vane invited him to drink.

"Join me!" The captain of, well, the Fort gestured to a seat at his table. "Won't you?" A request. Around them the chatter of flirting died away. Men turned to watch the unfolding scene. Still quite numb, Jack sat, though not without trepidation. Anne leered at him with mistrust, remaining standing until Charles directed a command at her. "Sit down."

"What's happening exactly?" Jack asked as she sank into the seat.

"I'm repairing your reputations, public display of reconciliation. So just there and smile-"Jack twitched his lips up into a facsimile of a smile. "And let it happen." Vane placed a cup in front of Anne before hoisting his own. "To Mr. Hormund," he glanced at Anne. "We hardly knew you." Jack took a sip with Charles. Vane looked at them in a manner that could have been amused. "Look at you two, every reason to run screaming from each other but you're still as thick as the moment I found you fucking behind the galley. You're liable to be the death of each other or we'll all end up working for you someday. Doubt there's any third outcome." Jack reached for his cup, his spirits raising. Charles no doubt wanted something of them, but working with Vane was better wasting away on land.

"Why?" He asked. "Why now?" He steeled himself for whatever his former Captain would request of him but Vane trained his gaze on the stairs-no- on Max who was descending them. She crossed the room to bend and whisper into Vane's ear. He frowned, the whore was playing a deeper game here. On the surface she was just protecting her interest, her share in the pirating endeavor that could not leave the ground with Charles. She'd known that this morning, might have let Jack waste his morning out of spite. No, that was paranoid but what else explained the timing?

"No shit." Van exhaled smoke from a cigar he must have lit while Jack's attention was elsewhere. He took a drag, regarded Max and then barked. "Stand up." Jack stood, Charles following and then Anne lunged to her feet, hand on her dagger in an instant. The crowd quieted around them again at the sound. Charles held his hand up, and turned his attention to Jack. Vane extended a hand to shake and Jack took it without hesitation, to find himself pulled into an uncomfortable embrace. They released one another, Charles turned to Max. "Will that do?" She nodded. "Congratulation Jack now you know what it's like to rise from the grave." His business concluded, Vance swaggered off leaving Max, Anne and himself to trade looks.

Max gave him a look that might have been smug before melting into the chattering crowd. She was working her way into every facet of his life, with unsettling speed and efficiency. She was so competent and intelligent. He was dancing on a knife's edge and either way was his ruin. There was no way he could extricate her from his life without damaging his profits or his relationship with Anne. He couldn't let her get in any farther either. A wrong step in either direction would ruin him. He felt a hand on his shoulder shove him into a chair. Anne pressed a mug into his hand. "You can over think what that meant later. Let's celebrate." She ordered, appearing across from him with her own drink.

Celebrating turned into planning. Anne wasn't talking much and there was only so long you could listen to pirates boast before your mind turned inward. He spent the next few hours in his head, putting together an idea, how he wanted to pay for the ship, who he wanted, and their preferred prey.

Before he knew it, the girls were lighting candles at nightfall. He was speaking aloud to Anne without realizing it. "We're gunna sail again." He could hardly contain his wonder. Anne set her mug down and headed for the stairs. As she went he felt the joy he'd been filled with begin to deflate.

"What the fuck you waitin' for?" He looked back at her, she smiled and inclined her head before continuing on. He drained his mug and set off after her, catching up in a stride and leading the way up the stairs.

At the top, Anne stopped at Max's door. Her gaze seemed to dare him to follow as she opened the doors and slid inside. He paused for a moment to consider, then followed Anne inside. Max was lighting a candle. "Did he see you come up?" She asked as the door opened, looking back when Anne remained silent. Jack lingered in the doorway as her eyes fell on him. He relished the confusion within them and stared back.

Either oblivious to or completely unaffected by the hostility in the air, Anne slipped off her shirt. Jack couldn't help it. He looked, having only seen the scarred flesh a handful of time and averted his eyes again with something akin to shame. Anne slid out of her trousers. Max met Jack's gaze, her expression horrified. In any other situation it would have been a relief to know Max was capable of perturbation, but knowing that the thing that had shocked her was the sight of Anne's back somehow stole any sense of relief.

Anne crossed through the doorway and into the bedroom beyond without a second glance. Max flicked her gaze from Anne's retreating backside to Jack. He met her eyes and for a moment couldn't place the emotion within them. It came to him a moment later, grief. He tilted his head in the direction Anne had disappeared. Max moved, crossing the room, unfastening her robe and letting it fall as she vanished as well. Jack kicked the door closed and shed his long coat. He ambled to the side of the bed, watching Anne and the whore.

Anne was lying on the bed on her stomach, clutching a pillow under her cheek. Max alighted on the bed with care, her left knee landing between Anne's. Jack studied Max's every movement as she put her weight on her hands, hovering over Anne. She pressed a gentle kiss to Anne's lower back, drawing forth a shudder. Max trailed kisses up their lover's spine, soft chaste kisses, languorous wet kisses, slow teasing kisses, kisses he couldn't describe for their power. With each one Anne relaxed more until she was a veritable puddle when Max nipped at her neck. The sting brought Anne's hazy eyes to gaze at her. Max gave her a chaste peck on the lips before brushing her nose on Anne's cheek.

With his neckerchief and pants shucked Jack had only to pull his shirt over his head to join them. He shrugged out of the garment as fast as he could manage but still missed something. Anne had chosen the exact moment his eyes were covered to employ her strength and grace to flip onto her back. When he caught sight of them again the two of them were gazing at each other with such intensity he feared he would end up spectating so he sat on the bed.

The slight jostling motion won him a look from Anne. She reached out and drug his lips to hers with her typical hunger. Anne kissed him with the fiery passion they'd always traded. Their kisses were not chaste and neat, they were not the kind that proper married couples shared on their wedding night. They were forceful and messy. Anne's nails raked his naked chest and back and he loved every second of the stinging, burning sensation.

Jack broke a kiss to grab a quick breath and Anne moved her attention to his neck. She pressed hard sloppy kisses to the base of his throat. He moved a hand between their bodies, his hand cupping her modest breast. She sank her teeth into the skin just below his stubble. Jack gave the bit of flesh in his palm a gentle squeeze before ghosting his fingers over the tip of her breast. Anne let out a soft moan, teeth leaving his tender skin for a scant second before clamping back down. He growled as he captured her turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it roughly. Anne tilted her head back and sought his lips again.

This kiss was softer, punctuated with soft whimpering noises and broken groans expressed into his mouth. Anne's tongue darted around his in a fierce display. Jack employed his captive at key points to drop Anne's guard to take control for a few seconds until the bite of her nails into his back drew a hiss from him. They surged back and forth against each other, grunting, hissing and gasping until Jack pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to Anne's jaw. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Max's head nestled between Anne's thighs.

He ducked his head and drew her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it. Anne sucked in a breath and tangled her fingers in Max's hair. Her mouth free, Anne was able to articulate sounds into words and she wasted no time putting the faculty to use. "Fuck Max!" She murmured. Jack scraped his teeth over her nipple in response. Anne bucked her hips and arched into him, her face contorting with the intensity of the experience. "C'mon! Stop teasing." She breathed with agitation. Jack repositioned his head with as much subtlety as he could manage so he could watch Max with his peripheral vision. He brought his left hand to trace patterns on Anne's abdomen to disguise his voyeurism.

Max had pulled away from Anne's cunt and was lavishing a spot just a few inches below with her attention. She was kissing, sucking, nipping, and biting that small area of flesh with breath taking intensity. Under her Anne was squirming and groaning with the occasional whimper and plea thrown in. The spot Max was focusing upon grew darker until the skin was so tender even the softest of caresses made Anne flinch. "Max…" She whimpered. "Please!" Her fingers picked and pulled at thick dark curls vindictively.

Jack switched his attention to the other nipple, nipping at it as Max pulled away from Anne entirely. "Please what?" She intoned. Anne stammered, huffed and fell silent. Jack abandoned Anne's breast and cradled her face. She kissed him with every bit of her frustration and he felt is cock stir with some kind of envy.

"Max, switch with me." He ordered, sitting up and pulling Anne up with him. He heard Max moving behind him. He laid himself down on his back. Anne's eyes focused on his cock greedily. "Well what the fuck are you waiting for then?" He asked with a playful smirk. Anne leaned forward, kissing his navel, nipple, jawline and then his lips.

Anne had never bothered to make mounting him look alluring and in this, even in the presence of Max, she seemed unwilling to change. She slung a leg over him, lowering herself down onto his crown without haste. He exhaled at the first touch of her hot slickened flesh upon him. Slipping into Anne was an experience by itself.

Her cunt was always so warm and inviting, some might say indecently wet as she sank past his head. She was a hot velvety vise around his cock. Both of them sighed at the relief of finding one another again. Anne would work her way back up, slide down to the same exact point. Her womb was so narrow that he would just not fit any farther. Anne had a way of rolling her hips so that with each stroke she would take a bit more of him and move lower until her entrance was clenched around his base.

That was how things had gone in the scores of times they'd fucked over the last thirteen years. This time as Anne sank over his crown there was no slowing. Her slick flesh slipped over the supple leather of his cock to the very base. He fit inside her perfectly, his head pressing forward against her front wall. Anne was close to orgasm, her walls rippled around him. She rocked forward with agonizing sluggishness, her head tipping back at the exquisite feeling. In the lamp light Anne was even more beautiful in her naked vulnerability. It was almost breathtaking-almost but for the ghoulish eyes peaking over her shoulder.

He looked away from Anne, turning his eyes to the ceiling. Max had settled behind Anne and was pressing kisses to her neck. A moan drew his attention to the place where their bodies met. Max's hand had settled there, her thumb grinding into the pearl of Anne's oyster. The stimulation increased the intensity and frequency of the contractions around his cock. Anne's breathing was ragged, her expression almost pained. She rocked faster, her eyes closing with the effort of holding out. Jack was fast approaching his own peak. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming. The hot tight flesh engulfed him, using him. Anne's poor attempts at suppressing her own breathy exaltations were driving him mad.

Anne's hips rolled forward without sign of stopping, coming faster and faster as her need grew. Finally she tipped her head down and looked into his eyes. Her eyes shone with lust and desperation, bright cerulean against her ruddy complexion. Her cunt clenched around him, taking away his breath. Anne cried out and then he was coming with her.

His cock pulsed, shooting his load within Anne. She rippled around him drawing more from him, intent on pulling every second of intense orgasm from him. Lights exploded behind is eyes until Anne finally went slack around him. She slouched forward onto him, his cock slipping out of her with a sick squelching sound. He wrapped his arm around her and closed his eyes to grab a bit of rest before he would be called upon again. Anne left his arms far faster than he would have liked. He cracked an eye to watch her head disappear between Max's thick thighs.


End file.
